


Permission

by superblooper



Category: The Posterchildren - Kitty Burroughs
Genre: M/M, also the fluff, oh the shameless ot3 implications
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 16:26:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1122011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superblooper/pseuds/superblooper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is honestly the first time he's woken up with Maks in his bed, but he wouldn't necessarily mind it becoming a regular thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Permission

**Author's Note:**

> for the Posterkid's ficathon. Prompt: "maks/ernest + light touch" for moannas@lj. 
> 
> My love for Maks knows no bounds.

Ernest gradually came out of sleep, shuffling toward the side so as to accommodate the ball of warmth tucked against his side. Then he paused. Because he had  _definitely_  got into bed  _alone_ that night. June was in New York with explicit instructions that he wasn't allowed to follow her home this time. So like a scolded puppy he resigned himself to a long weekend without her. It was amazing how well they worked. As partners and... -his toes curled with pleasure at the thought- as a couple. But his mooning would have to wait.  
  
There was still a Maks shaped ball nestled up to his ribcage that needed dealing with. There was no mistaking that curly black hair, even without his glasses. Besides, the little blue motes floating free through the air were a dead giveaway. Same went for the overly affectionate snuggling.  
  
"Maks..?" Ernest mumbled sleepily. He wasn't used to being woken in the middle of the night, short of an emergency. But tonight, there was no sense of urgency, just a kind of bleary confusion. He wasn't really upset, how could he be? Maks was just a cuddly guy, who like physical contact and probably didn't get any with  _his_  partner. Ernest didn't have the heart or the desire, really, to shoo him.  
  
"Present," Maks answered, his face pressed into Ernest's chest. Ernest was suddenly very glad he wore shirts to bed. The sudden image of Maks' lips brushing over his bare skin made him hot around the collar. He chalked up his completely inappropriate train of thought to the lateness of the hour and reached out to his nightstand, fumbling for his glasses.  
  
"Somethin' wrong?"  
  
"Not nearly enough cuddling happening?" To emphasize his point, Maks threw a leg over Ernest's hips, kicking half the blankets to the floor and probably not caring at all.  
  
Ernest nearly poked out his eye with his glasses, he jumped so hard. He wasn't fully coherent yet, but his ability to flush deep red was at full capacity. He could feel the heat in his chest and spluttered unintelligibly, trying to get his bearings back.  
  
Maks was grinning, Ernest could feel his lips curve through the fabric of his chest. And Maks could probably feel his heart thundering away like a jackhammer, all cozied up to his person like he was. "Somethin' wrong?" Maks parroted back. The way he had his witty repertoire all fired up convinced Ernest that this was a planned assault. Or maybe Maks was just always this chatty, even at... 2AM. Ernest blinked hard behind his glasses and checked the clock beside his bed again. Yessir, it was 2AM. He almost groaned, but he didn't want to make Maks believe that something  _was_  wrong. He didn't mind this late night invasion. Not  _really_.

"Uhm," he replied, hands awkwardly held up and away from the koala incarnate wrapped around his middle. What was he supposed to do with his hands? Did... he put them on Maks? Maks wouldn't have a problem with that, but Ernest could imagine someone else might have a problem with it, even if Ernest was trying to avoid hurting Maks feelings by asking him to leave.   
  
Maks raised his head, resting his chin over Ernest's heart, so he could twinkle face to face at Ernest. His grin was a little lopsided. "If you're uncomfortable, I can go," he offered up generously, tightening his limbs around Ernest unwillingly. "I'll wander the lands of Maillardet's all by lonesome, heartsick and weeping," he added with a weighty sigh, because Maks liked things dramatic. "June mentioned you might be shy about this kind of thing." With that offhand comment, the performance ended, Maks laying his cheek on Ernest like he was a pillow.  
  
This was cause for more spluttering on Ernest's part. " _June knows about this?_ " To his shame, his voice squeaked.  
  
"She suggested you might need some company. She used a comparison of a lovelorn, pining puppy, I believe. It was very tasteful," Maks replied, and Ernest could feel that the grin was back. Maks thought he was winning him over. There was really no need; Maks didn't need to  _earn_  his right to give Ernest a hug, even though this was more horizontal than previous hugs. But had June really said that? Ernest knew he was down when June wasn't around, but he didn't think it was that  _obvious_.  
  
"Oh. Okay," Ernest said numbly.   
  
"You're allowed to touch too, y'know," Maks prompted, nonchalant. He wiggled closer, their bodies fully flush. "You have my permission. And June's, as mentioned."  
  
Ernest nodded and dropped his hands, letting one arm drape around Maks' shoulders. His mind was fully awake now, and with Maks so close, he didn't really know if heading back into dreamland was any option anymore. Errant thoughts flickered through his head, making him twitch with mild discomfort. Then he told himself he was being a lousy bodypillow and stilled.  
  
Maks must've picked up on his unease, because he tilted his head up to look at Ernest straight in the face again. He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating across Ernest's skin. "Thinking about our interlude? The one that involved shirtless you and I  _think_  I was there too..?" Ernest wondered if his swallow was audible. Thankfully he knew Maks couldn't hear him blushing. His heartbeat, on the other hand... "Because, well, I'm not saying I liked it, but I  _definitely_  liked it. On a scale of 1 to 10, it kind of maks'd out the scale," he joked, his grin gentling into a genuine smile.  
  
"Yeah," Ernest agreed, nervous again, but torn between feeling guilty and not. As naïve as he might've been, no one could fault Ernest for being unobservant. He'd seen the way June  _and_ Maks had looked at him when his usual "grandpa getup" (not his words, at all) came off and the hero gear went on. And if June had okayed this... maybe it was okay to admit to Maks that- "I kind of liked it too. It was... nice.  _Really_  nice."  
  
Maks patted his stomach consolingly, speckly blue light flickering beneath his skin. He gave Ernest a cheery wink. "You'll get better at pillowtalk, friend, I have faith." He scooted up the bed, wriggling like an eel so he could peck Ernest on the nose, knocking his glasses askew.  
  
Ernest stammered, trying to figure out what he was supposed to say, but all that was coming out of his mouth was a whole lot of uhm's and mm's. Seemed like Maks understood, because he hunkered back down his original position, sighing contentedly as he did. Ernest was silent for a minute, carefully trying to sort through the confusing jumbles of emotion ricocheting across his mind. Then he carefully gave Maks a little squeeze. Light touch, he remembered. Light touch and there will be no messy orange pulp. Just a sweet taste in his mouth.


End file.
